Gentlemen Prefer Brunettes
by Antigone.Rose
Summary: John Casey has always preferred brunettes. Sure, he’ll take the occasionally red head, but his true passion has always been reserved for brown-haired women."


John Casey has always preferred brunettes. Sure, he'll take the occasionally red head, but his true passion has always been reserved for brown-haired women. Ilsa was a brunette. Kathleen was a brunette. All of Casey's favorite women have been brunettes.

When Casey went to Burbank for his new assignment, he never thought he'd be staying long-term. He thought it would be like most of his other jobs; get in, shoot somebody and then get out. Fortunately, it wasn't.

When he moves into his new building, he doesn't expect to be staying for long. The D.C. eggheads will finish the new Intersect soon and he'll be able to shoot the nerd and get on the next flight away from California. Fortunately, it doesn't work out like that.

Casey walks into the courtyard of his new building. He has a box with a few things in it. Mostly, it's Ronald Regan paraphernalia and his bonsai tree. The rest of the things in his apartment are Government Issue.

He sees a woman in the courtyard. She's pretty. Brunette. She's sitting on the fountain in a pair of scrubs, a book perched on her lap. She looks up as he walks past.

"Hi." She says, folding down the page in her book and setting it on the fountain beside her. "Are you my new neighbor?"

Casey grunts. He waits a second, and then realizes she might not know what that means. "Yeah." He says gruffly. "I'm Casey. John Casey."

She stands up. She's prettier than he had first though. In a more flattering outfit, she could even be beautiful. "I'm Ellie." She holds out a hand. He takes it. "Are you from around here?" She asks.

"No." He lets go of her hand, but not before feeling how soft it is. "I'm more East Coast."

"Oh," She smiles. He was wrong. Even in her unbecoming scrubs, she's beautiful. She pushes her long dark hair out of her face. Casey wants to run his hands through it. "I've never been there."

"I guess I'll see you around." Casey grunts. He didn't want to get too close. He wasn't going to be here long.

"Okay." She smiles at him again. He watches her from outside his door as she returns to her book.

* * *

When she invites him to thanksgiving, he's quick to accept. He knows its good for his cover. At least, that's why he tells himself he's going.

She looks very pretty the day she asks him. It's the first time that he's seen her out of scrubs in person. He's seen her every state of dress imaginable on the surveillance monitors, but it's not the same as seeing her in person.

He's having a good time at dinner. He's surprised when he thinks about it. He's crammed between the idiot boyfriend and Walker. He didn't expect to have a good time, but her really does love Ellie Bartowski's cooking and her company.

She looks especially beautiful tonight, more beautiful than Kathleen did when he took her to Senior Prom.

She smiles at him occasionally. He knows it's just to make him feel welcome and that she does it to everyone, but he treasures those little smiles. He ignores everyone else until the nerd gives an especially disturbing thanks.

"I'm thankful that Bryce Larkin is dead and not in my bedroom making out with my current girlfriend." Chuck says and Casey knows something is wrong.

He excuses himself and goes to break up Walker's little make-out session with her boy toy.

He wishes he could make out with Ellie.

* * *

They're friends. It's weird and a bit unfamiliar, but it's also nice and cheerful. Major John Casey, ruthless NSA trained killer, has a friend. And that friend is also his asset's sister.

They go to the Laundromat together sometimes. Once or twice, they've gone shopping. Sometimes, they cook together. They've been called a "lovely couple" by random strangers. Casey kind of likes when that happens.

They don't really tell anybody about their friendship. It would be weird.

Casey doesn't want to be friends with Ellie. Casey wants to do so much more than just be friends with her. If he'd found her a long time ago, he's pretty sure he wouldn't be in the NSA right now. He'd be somewhere with her. And a family.

But he's an honorable man and he doesn't want to ruin her relationship with the other doctor. And he knows that once the new Intersect is done he'll have to shoot her brother and then leave her. Broken.

So they're friends. And Casey can get by with just that.

* * *

Ilsa's back. Casey can't believe it when he sees her. He thought she was dead. For _years._ She's just as beautiful as he remembers.

He fights so hard to save her. And he does.

When they go back to his apartment for the night, he expects things to be the same as they were years ago. He expects for her to be great, for _them_ to be great.

But…something's off. She's changed. He's changed. The feel of her lips against his is unfamiliar. But they take what they can get because in this business you don't get very much.

After she's asleep, Casey gets up from bed and walks to the window. He can't sleep. He's still thinking about long, dark brown hair. But, he's not sure who it belongs to.

He stares intently at the house next to his. He half wants to go check the monitors, to watch Ellie sleep. But that isn't what they're there for. So he doesn't.

After a few long seconds, he goes back to bed. He runs a hand gently through Ilsa's long hair. She stirs gently and turns away from him.

He closes his eyes and tries to sleep. When he finally does drift off, his dreams are full of long brown hair and blue scrubs and things he shouldn't be thinking about, but is.

He wakes up after Ilsa. The bed is empty and, for a second, he thinks she's gone. "Ilsa?" He calls softly.

"I'm in the kitchen!" Her voice echoes back to him. He gets dressed quickly and goes out to see her. She's leaning against a counter, drinking a mug of coffee. She smiles ruefully over the rim of her mug.

"Morning." She says. He notices that her coffee is black. The Ilsa he knew liked her coffee with cream and sugar.

He grunts and pours himself a cup of coffee. He thinks about how Ellie drinks tea instead of coffee because she thinks coffee's unhealthy.

They're both silent. There really isn't anything to say. They drink their coffee and, after a long moment, she sighs.

"I should really go, Casey." Her voice isn't regretful.

"It was good to see you again." He says, but he feels like his voice sounds flat.

"You too." She holds out a hand for him to shake. He takes it. "I'll see you, Casey."

"Good luck, Ilsa." He drops her hand. She takes a last sip of her coffee before opening his door and leaving.

Casey watches her go. He's not sure how to feel. He's not happy about it, but he's not sorry, either. They had both changed too much.

Once she's out of the courtyard, he goes to see Ellie. She's dressed in her blue scrubs today. Her hair isn't combed and she hasn't put on makeup. She's the most beautiful thing Casey has ever seen.

And it hurts, because he knows that he can never have her. Because he knows that someday he'll have to leave her, just like he left Kathleen and just like Ilsa left him. And, someday, she'll be unfamiliar too.

* * *

After she gets engaged, he backs off. They stop talking everyday and John's free to do more valuable things with his time, like clean his guns and trim his bonsai tree. He really misses her.

One afternoon, she stops him in the courtyard. "Hi, stranger." She says and he feels guilty.

"Hey Ellie." He grumbles, looking down at her. "What have you been up to?"

She sighs and runs a hand through her hair. He swallows. "You know, wedding planning, working, all sorts of stuff. What about you?"

"Working." He grunts. "Things have been busy around the BuyMore."

"I know!" She smiles. "I barely see Chuck anymore! So, do you have any plans for the afternoon?"

"No." He really does. He was going to go fill out the rest of his mission reports and then maybe have a nice glass of scotch. But he'd cancel it for Ellie.

"Well, Devon had to go see his parents and I have to pick up a few things from the store…I was wondering if you wanted to come." She smiles up at him hesitantly.

"Sure." He follows her out of the courtyard, suddenly happier than he's been in a very long time.

* * *

They're laughing when they pull back into the parking lot. Casey helps Ellie out of the car and takes the bags from her. They pass Walker's sleek, black convertible as the walk back to the courtyard.

"Oh no." Ellie groans as they pass it. "I'm going have to listen to Sarah and Chuck be all lovey-dovey."

"They do talk a lot." Agrees Casey, thinking of all the times he's had to listen to his partner and the moron talk for hours about their "feelings."

"Can I come over for few minutes?" Ellie asks as they reach the door to his apartment. "Much as I love both of them, I'm really not in the mood."

"Sure." Casey unlocks the door and ushers her in. "I'll pour you a glass of scotch.

Several ample glasses of scotch later, Ellie is leaning against John Casey's shoulder, crying uncontrollably. He's more than a little uncomfortable.

"Uhhh…" He pats her head a few times, "It's okay Ellie…"

"No it isn't!" She wails, crying still harder. "I'm marrying somebody I don't even _know_ anymore!"

"What?" Casey is very confused. She had started crying a few moments ago without any warning. Where did women come up with this stuff? "You know Devon, Ellie."

"Not anymore!" She wept, gulping down some more scotch. Casey removes the glass from her fist. "I'm just marrying him because it's _convenient_!"

"Ellie…" He tries, but she cuts him off with more incessant crying. He decides to just wait out the storm.

Several long moments later, she calms down. Her sobs fade into faint sniffles. Her vice-grip on his shoulder loosens. "I'm sorry." She mumbles, her face pressed into his shoulder.

"It's okay." Casey pats her arm, relived that the storm is over. "Its just pre-wedding nerves, Ellie."

She sighs and is silent for a long moment. She looks up at him. "I don't really think it is."

He sighs and pushes her hair out of her eyes. His fingers brush her slightly damp cheeks. "You're fine, Ellie," he murmurs softly, "You're fine."

Her eyes suddenly fix on his face. She stares at him intently, her mouth slightly open. He wipes a stray tear of her cheek. He can't help himself. She grabs onto his hand as it leaves her face. "Don't." She whispers.

"Ellie…" He tries to remove his hand from hers. But he's always had a weak spot as far as Ellie Bartowski goes.

"John…please." She whispers and leans forward. Her lips are dangerously close to his.

He tries to hold himself back, to be the good and honorable man that he has always been, but he just can't. He kisses her.

She responds instantly, moving her lips in tandem with his and wrapping her arms around his waist. He anchors his hands firmly in her long, dark hair, running his fingers through it like he's always wanted to.

She kisses him fiercely, unlike any other woman he has ever known. She bites down on his bottom lip and he gasps. She moves herself, never breaking her lips with his, so that she's situated on his lap, her legs wrapped around his waist.

She moans as he moves his lips to her neck. He can hear her heavy breathing in his ears. He can feel her hands, pulling up his shirt frantically. Her hair dances around his face, making him light-headed with need. She's his whole world.

She's successfully managed to get his shirt off. He moves to help her with the top of her blue scrubs, both of them breathing heavily. He peels it off her body. He can see her lacy black bra. She pushes her body against him and he groans with longing. He moves to unhook her bra but something stops him.

"Ellie…" He murmurs. She's engaged. She's his asset's _sister_. He'll have to leave her. He can't do this. "We can't do this."

"Why?" He breathing is hot, ragged in his ear. She kisses his neck before continuing. "Why not, John?"

"You're drunk, Ellie." He tells her, trying to ignore the way her fingers are running through his hair. "You don't want to do this."

"I'm not drunk." She whispers, her lips very close to his ear. "I want this, John. I'm sure."

"Imagine how we'll feel in the morning." He whispers back.

She laughs lightly and Casey bites back a groan of want, of need. "People always say they feel guilty, but they never do. We may say we feel guilty, but we won't." She pauses and bites her bottom lip. "I _want_ you, John."

And, of course, he can't say he doesn't want her. He's always had a weakness as far as Ellie Bartowski goes.

* * *

The wedding comes quicker than he expected it to. The day before, he's packing up his apartment, getting ready for the Intersect project to officially be over. He's glad he doesn't have to shoot the nerd. He's actually come to like him, in a weird, disinterested kind of way.

He's loading his various Ronald Regan collectables into a box when he hears her come in. He sets down the box and there she is, a small, sad smile on her lips. "Hi."

He grunts and turns back to his box.

"Are you leaving?" Her voice is sweet and uncertain.

"Yeah." He sets down the box and turns to look at her. "I don't think I'll be able to make the wedding. Sorry."

She crosses the room to stand in front of him. Her body is inches from his. "It's okay." She whispers and kisses him softly. Her lips feel like a missing piece of his body that has finally fallen into place.

"Ellie…" He murmurs, pushing her hair behind her ear. "We agreed. This has to stop."

"When I'm married." She corrected. "I've been over here almost every day for four months. It hasn't bothered you then."

"You're getting married tomorrow, El." He wraps his arms around her waist.

"And you're leaving tomorrow!" She puts her arms around his neck. "We might never get another chance."

"This is wrong, Ellie." He kisses her forehead softly.

"It doesn't feel wrong." She whispers against his lips.

He lets go of her. It the hardest thing he's ever done. "Goodbye, Eleanor." He says formally. "Congratulations."

Tears are running down her cheeks, but she seems to understand. "Goodbye, John. I lov…" She stops and gulp down a fresh wave of tears. "Goodbye."

She leaves. The door slams and Casey is left alone with his box of Ronald Regan collectibles and a bonsai tree.

* * *

Casey wants to be gone when Mrs. Woodcomb comes back from her honeymoon. But fate sure seems to have a sick sense of humor. He's standing in the courtyard when the happy couple troops back from where ever it was they were.

Ellie stops laughing when she sees him. Her face actually goes white. "John." She says.

He nods to them. "Congratulations." He grunts.

"Hey, um, Devon?" Mrs. Woodcomb looks imploringly at her new husband. "Can you put the bags inside? I want to ask Casey a few things."

"Sure thing, babe." He takes her back and goes over to the apartment. Ellie waits until the door is closed to turn to Casey.

"I thought you were leaving." She crosses her arms. Her face is still pale.

"Job offer fell through." Casey grumbles, looking down at her.

"So…you're staying?" Her face is unreadable.

"For the time being." He says, examining her face. She's still his Ellie.

"I have to tell you something, John…" Her face gets a little paler.

"Babe!" Devon's voice echoes across the courtyard. "I need you help with something!"

"I'll see you later, Mrs. Woodcomb." Casey turns and leaves her staring after him, her face still white.

* * *

"John!" The door bangs open. "I need to talk to you."

Ellie Woodcomb strides in. Casey looks up from his bonsai tree, annoyed. They'd been through this. They couldn't be together anymore. She was married.

"What is it, Mrs. Woodcomb?" Casey sets down his trimmers.

She sits down at the table across from him. She takes a deep breath. "I'm pregnant."

He freezes. "Is it…Devon's?" He chokes, feeling like he's falling.

She grabs one of his hands. "I don't think so." She murmurs. "We weren't…together very much in the months before the wedding. And we always used protection."

"How far along are you?" Casey feels his voice work mechanically. He can't think.

She squeezes him hand. "About two months." She murmurs. "So about the time with...you know, the BuyMore bathroom…"

"Oh." They hadn't used protection. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Ellie had tears in her eyes. "I'm sorry, John."

"It's okay." He clutched her hand tighter, like a lifeline. "It'll be fine, Ellie. We'll all be fine."


End file.
